


A Perfect Glass of Wine

by FeatherWriter



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Cute, Fluff, Kaladin POV, M/M, POV Third Person, Tipsy Renarin, Wine, Words of Radiance - Freeform, wine tasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherWriter/pseuds/FeatherWriter
Summary: Some Kalarin cutes written as a birthday present for a friend. Kaladin and Renarin attend a wine tasting in the warcamps and cutes ensue.





	A Perfect Glass of Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kogiopsis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kogiopsis/gifts).



The small frown that crossed Renarin’s face almost made Kaladin want to change his answer to the question.

“You… don’t like wine?” Renarin posed the question hesitantly, as though he were still confused by the idea.

Kaladin ran a hand through his hair, wishing he had pulled it back. Aside from the fact that it kept falling into his eyes, the afternoon was quickly growing warmer than he’d expected. “Not particularly, no.”

He’d had wine before, of course. Back in Hearthstone, those rare nights when his father had taken a glass had often included a sip or two for Kaladin. After he’d joined the army however, his choices of alcohol had been somewhat… rougher. Spearmen drank beer or lavis ale, perhaps the occasional glass of Horneater lager when someone was trying to show off for a pretty girl or if they’d lost a bet. No one but lighteyed officers had drank wine in the army.

After becoming a slave, he’d _served_ wine at plenty of his masters’ tables, to the point that the drink had almost become tainted by association with them. Yes, darkeyes drank wine, but it was the lighteyes who lounged for hours in winehouses and kept carafes sitting about simply to have on hand.

As Kaladin looked around at the other patrons at this event – an outdoor, afternoon wine tasting hosted by merchants showing off their wares – he was unsurprised to see that the majority of eye colors were pale. He could feel himself growing annoyed at the frivolity of it all, and in an effort to stave off any impending bad moods, he turned back to Renarin. The younger Kholin prince had been excited for this wine tasting for the past week, in his own reserved way, and Kaladin didn’t want to cast a gloom over it.

“It’s just not really my thing,” Kaladin said, the words unintentionally coming across like an awkward apology. “Wines have a fruity kind of flavor. It tastes like women’s food to me.”

The change in Renarin’s expression was slight, but Kaladin caught it. The confused frown tweaking into something a little bit more hurt. _Idiot,_ Kaladin thought, _this is something he cares about and you just said it was too feminine._ It wasn’t difficult to understand that Renarin felt insecure about the fact that he wasn’t a warrior, that he didn’t quite fit the Alethi masculine ideal. Was it any wonder Kaladin saying his interests were feminine would be heard with a touch of insult to it?

“But,” Kaladin added, trying to salvage this conversation. “Perhaps I just haven’t tried the right kind yet. If there were anyone who could find a wine I would like, I have a feeling it would be you. You seem to know a lot about this kind of thing.”

Renarin blinked once, lips slowly curving into a soft smile. “You think so?”

Inwardly, Kaladin thanked the Almighty that he might not have messed this up. It was one thing Kaladin had noticed while having Renarin as a member of Bridge Four: he had a deep need to be useful. He enjoyed having tasks to accomplish, even if they were mundane or unpleasant. Something like this, in which he had a skill that Kaladin was treating as valuable, might be just what he needed.

For Kaladin, that was reason enough to drink some wine at a lighteyes’ social event. For Renarin, it would be worth it. “Just stay away from the harder drinks. I am technically on duty still, though I don’t think there’s too much chance of you or your brother being attacked here.”

He glanced across the tables, where Adolin was weaving his way through the booths set up. His Horneater princess fiancée was with him, and Kaladin supposed if something bad _were_ to happen, he’d end up protecting her too. She had her arm wrapped around his, and laughed at something he’d said as they walked. Fake laugh. Could Adolin really not see that this girl was trouble? Idiot. Lighteyes were all idiots.

Renarin nodded. “I’ll be sure to stay away from violets for you.”

Renarin led the way to one of the closer tables, picking up one of the small sample glasses and raising it to his nose. As he closed his eyes and breathed in the scent, he asked a few questions to the girl standing beside the display. Nation of origin, ingredients, method of fermentation, notes and flavors. Kaladin was almost taken aback by the inquisition. He’d heard of people being wine connoisseurs, but he’d never quite imagined a drink could be so complicated.

The prince tasted each of the wines at the table, taking them a sip at a time and mulling over the different flavors, tasting them with small slices of fluffy Thaylen bread or a piece of cheese. After he’d completed his survey of the options, he picked up a glass and held it out to Kaladin.

“I think you might like this one, Captain.” The wine was a deep scarlet, sitting in the small glass cup like a liquid firemark. “It’s an Azish red wine from the north, with a simple blend and spiced notes.”

Kaladin took the cup carefully. While it had seemed a perfect fit with Renarin’s slender fingers, his hand seemed to dwarf it. He took a small sip, trying to savor it the way he’d seen Renarin doing earlier. Much to his surprise, he liked it. It wasn’t overly fruity the way some wines were, and there was almost a smoky aftertaste to it, like liquid campfire smoke. Thinking of that made him think of Bridge Four’s nightly meals.

“It’s not bad,” he said, drinking the rest with another sip. “Better than other wines I’ve tried, certainly.”

A smile of pride crossed the young prince’s face, something that managed to quirk Kaladin’s mouth into a grin as well. Before he could comment further however, they were interrupted by an all-too familiar voice. “Letting my brother talk your ear off about wines, Bridgeboy?”

Kaladin’s smile vanished, replaced by a slight scowl as he turned and saw Adolin and Shallan approaching. Renarin nodded his head toward the two in greeting. “Have you been enjoying the tasting, Adolin?”

“Yes, though I’ll admit, they all taste pretty much the same to me. Wine is wine. I can really only differentiate by colors.”

Renarin gave a small laugh at that. “I think you might be hopeless, Brother.”

Shallan bumped Adolin lightly with a grin. “I can attest to that.”

As she spoke, Renarin looked as though he’d remembered something, and turned back to the table. “Brightness Shallan, I think I found a wine you might enjoy. It’s an Alethi wine, but it has an interesting ingredient you might be interested in.” He picked up a small glass of rose-colored wine and held it out to her.

“A pink Alethi wine?” Adolin asked with a smile. “One would think an orange Veden wine might suit her better.”

The comment earned him a sharp elbow to the ribs from her. To Renarin, Shallan gave a polite smile, taking the small glass from him and raising it to her lips. “For me? What ingredient?”

“It’s a Shin fruit, and I thought you might like something exotic like that,” Renarin said. “A little red fruit, called a strawberry.”

Shallan froze halfway through her first sip, eyes widening slightly. She set the cup down on the table without drinking any more. “Thank you, Renarin, it’s lovely. If you would excuse me a moment.” She untwined her arm from Adolin’s and quickly walked away.

Renarin’s face fell. “Did… I say something wrong?”

“I don’t think it was you,” Adolin said, staring after as though wondering if he should go after her. “I’ll see if she’s okay.”

Renarin’s eyes followed Adolin and Shallan as they left with a worried expression. Kaladin laid a hand on his shoulder, lightly pulling him toward another table. Whatever had happened with Shallan, it hadn’t been Renarin’s fault, and Kaladin didn’t want him to dwell on it. “Renarin, did you want to try some from over here?”

The prince watched a moment longer, then finally turned toward Kaladin and nodded. For a little while he seemed to still be in a lowered mood, but he quickly managed to find his good humor again. Within minutes, he was talking about all the different kinds of wines he was trying. Sometimes he told information about their origin, or stories about different times that he’d drank a certain kind of wine. Kaladin listened quietly, thinking to himself that he might be learning more about Renarin with this afternoon than he had before.

To Renarin, these weren’t just wines, they were experiences. Some held memories of other times, or reminded him of places he’d once visited. For him, trying a new wine was almost like meeting a new friend, and there was something about it that made Kaladin want to take part as well. These drinks were a part of who Renarin was, and Kaladin felt… almost privileged that he was sharing them. Like hearing about the bridgemen’s pasts, this had the feeling of something almost sacred.

At each table, Renarin would try each of the wines before deciding whether or not to have Kaladin taste any. Sometimes there were one or two offered, sometimes none. He never offered any violet wines, as per Kaladin’s request, and seemed to avoid the stronger sapphires as well. Kaladin was pleased to find that he liked most of them. Renarin had a good sense for what Kaladin would or would not like, it seemed.

Between being interested in what was being said and focusing on the tasting, Kaladin missed the point that Renarin’s sentences went from careful and precise explanations to something slightly more rambling and slightly more slurred. It wasn’t until Renarin started to turn to find the next table and swayed sideways that Kaladin caught on to what had happened. He was there in a moment, catching Renarin before he could fall over.

“Whoa there, careful,” Kaladin said. “How many of these have you had?” A pointless question; Kaladin had been there for the whole afternoon. He was just now thinking that for every drink he’d had, Renarin had had five or six, however. How could he have been so careless?

Renarin raised a hand to his head, seeming to realize for himself what had happened. “Hmmm… more than I should have, I think.”

“Come on,” Kaladin said, moving his arm down around Renarin’s waist to give him some support. “Let’s get you sitting down somewhere, okay?”

Renarin nodded, letting Kaladin lead him to a table nearby. Kaladin made sure he was seated in a stable enough manner not to fall over before taking the seat across from him. Renarin frowned for a moment before resting his head atop his arms on the table. Though they’d been small sips, they added up, and Kaladin had a feeling Renarin wasn’t one who could handle great quantities of alcohol.

“Do you usually drink this much at wine tastings?”

Renarin shook his head, then closed his eyes with a grimace as the world undoubtedly started to spin for him. “I wanted to make sure you found one you liked.”

Kaladin sighed. The boy had done this because of _him?_ “Your father is going to kill me for letting you get drunk. I’m fairly certain that that is explicitly against one of the Codes.”

Eyes still closed, Renarin gave a one-shouldered shrug. “ ‘S not like I can fight anyway.”

Kaladin frowned at him, though of course, with eyes closed, Renarin couldn’t see. He wasn’t entirely sure how best to respond to that, so he let the conversation lapse into silence. Looking around, he tried to see if he could spot Adolin and Shallan, but they were nowhere to be found. Skar, who was also on duty with him, was absent as well, so Kaladin could only hope he was with the elder Kholin brother and the girl, wherever they’d run off to.

Kaladin turned back to Renarin, about to ask him how he was feeling, only to find that the prince’s mouth had lulled open slightly and he was now drooling on his sleeve amidst soft snores. Definitely not much of a drinker, this one. Telling himself that there was most certainly _not_ the beginnings of a fond smile on his face, he stood and lightly shook Renarin’s shoulder in an attempt to rouse him. No response.

Kaladin glanced around, checking to make sure that there weren’t too many people watching. He didn’t want to embarrass Renarin by having too many other people see. This table was at the edge of the event, and most of the attendees were off a ways, engaged in the various tastings. Satisfied that they wouldn’t be leered at, Kaladin slipped his arms under Renarin’s shoulders and knees, and quickly pulled him into a carrying position. The prince was lighter than he’d expected, and the motion reminded him suddenly of carrying Tien to bed after his brother had nodded off somewhere.

He shifted Renarin slightly, trying to make sure he was comfortable. Renarin made a small, unconscious sighing sound and leaned his head against Kaladin’s shoulder. This time, Kaladin couldn’t deny that there was a smile in response to that.

He looked out at the rest of the camp. Bridge Four’s barrack was close. Renarin could sleep off his stupor there, hopefully away from the eyes of the rest of the camp. He was technically a member of the squad, even if he didn’t normally bunk down with them.

“Come on, Renarin,” Kaladin said quietly, though he was well aware that he wouldn’t be heard. “Let’s find you a bed.” Perhaps he would buy a bottle of one of those wines. They hadn’t been half bad. He’d have to ask Renarin which one he was thinking of when the prince woke up.


End file.
